Skate
by Got Well Soon
Summary: Three years after Max leaves Arcadia Bay, Max and Chloe lead somewhat parallel lives, and think about each other. Diverges into an AU where they reconnect prior to the events of the game. Short and sweet. Pricefield. Beginning of the Skate AU series.
1. Chapter 1

Three years in Seattle. There was so much more here than in Arcadia Bay. ("Another great day!" Ugh.) But the anniversary of the big move made her think of Chloe. She hoped Chloe's life was turning out OK, despite everything. What was it Joyce had said, that they'd "find a new rhythm?" Whatever that means.

Max walked into the skate park with the Polaroid instant camera and her old 80's Nikon 35mm, which was loaded with 800 ISO black and white. With the Nikon, she hoped to get some high-contrast action shots of skaters mid-air, all shadow and light in the afternoon sun. The Polaroid was for the people who were _not_ in motion, skater punks at peak fashion in their native environment. It was two shoots in one.

The park was big, with concrete ramps, halfpipes, pools, rails, and there were dozens of skaters and just as many gawkers. The air was full of the rattle and clack of boards on cement. She didn't really know anybody, but she recognized a few kids from school sitting at the edge of a half pipe, so she approached them.

"Hey, do you guys mind if I take some photos? I'm trying to catch some airborne tricks and some fashion too." She waggled a camera in each hand, feeling like a complete dork amidst all this urban cool.

The small group looked at each other, there were a few shrugs, and one of the guys spoke. "Yeah, that's cool... Max, right? We'll show off some tricks. You skate?"

"Nah, I'm terrible. I'd kill myself in there." She was surprised anybody here knew her name. "Just a shutterbug."

"Aaron," he said, stepping onto his board. He didn't bother to introduce anyone else.

"Right, cool." Raising the Nikon, her old best friend came to mind again. _I wonder if Chloe skates._

* * *

Chloe dropped into the halfpipe. A rickety wooden thing somebody had thrown together, but it was all they had in this town. Arcadia Bay's small contingent of skaters lounged around the edges. She arced back and forth a while to build up speed, find her balance, then high up one side to pull a fast rock n' roll, catching some good air on the turn, then down, across and up to stall out on the other side, landing solidly on the edge and dismounting. "Damn Chloe, flawless!" called a voice from across the pipe. She looked around to smiles and nods of approval... from the guys at least. They were here to skate. The girls were here to watch the guys. Some of them had boards they rode around on but they didn't go in the pipe, didn't do tricks, and a lot of them resented Chloe for breaking the mold.

She kicked up her board and sat cross-legged next to Sarah. Green eyes, a slight build and long black hair spilling down her faded brown army jacket. Chloe was nursing a crush. "Hey."

"Hey Chloe. Not bad." Sarah looked around pointedly, then back at Chloe. "Everybody watches when you skate."

"Maybe they've never seen a girl in there before. You should get in the pipe sometime, it's not as hard as it looks. I could show you how. I mean, sometime when there's not an audience. Just in case." She rolled up her left sleeve to show off a six-inch strip of half-healed road rash.

"Ouch, that must have killed! I think I'll pass," Sarah said, then gestured to the blue streak cutting through Chloe's blond hair. "I like the blue."

"Thanks. My stepdad hates it."

"So?"

"Exactly."

Across the pipe, Justin dropped in. Sarah watched him intently. "He's such a cutie."

"I guess," Chloe scowled, "if you're into red-eyed space-cases."

"Hah! I think maybe I am."

 _God damn it._ No surprise, but it still stung. _Why do I do this to myself?_ "Well, good luck with that. I'll see you around," she said halfheartedly, hopping down from the pipe and heading for home. Sarah may have been a skate punk but she was still straight as an arrow; none of those girls were queer. As far as Chloe could tell, neither were any of the other girls in the whole damned town.

* * *

"This one's a rock n' roll!" Aaron called from the bottom of the pipe, before coming up the side, rocking on the coping, losing it, and bailing hard down the side. "Crap!" he yelled, tumbling. Max clicked the shutter and the Nikon buzzed. That was the last frame of the roll. Well, if the tricks didn't come out at least there was a nice shot of this guy flying toward a hard landing. The polaroids were great; the girls were beautiful and loved to model the variously faded, torn, and scuffed clothing that had all come from thrift stores but somehow managed to look just right. Max's eyes kept drifting across them as she sat down to pack up. One girl spoke up.

"That's a film camera, right? What do you do now?"

"I develop these in the dark room at the J.C. Lots of chemicals."

"For real? Sounds like a drag. That Polaroid is sweet though."

"Yeah, it's my favorite. But if I tried to shoot _that_ ," she said, pointing to Aaron struggling to his feet below, "with _this_ , it would be a blurry mess. Plus I want black and white."

"Black and white? That is so old school."

"Seriously old school," Max agreed, "all my artsy friends are into it though."

"Freeze frame nerds huh? Sounds like a blast," the girl said, rolling her eyes.

Ouch. "Well... I..." Max started, but Aaron, scrambling onto the edge, interjected.

"Jeez, harsh. Max is alright." And then, sitting next to Max, "Get anything good?"

"Ah... yup. Sure did," Max said, holding up some polaroids.

"Nice! How about the tricks?"

"Maybe. Don't know until I develop them, it takes a while." Max collected her things and stood.

"Ah, bummer. I'd love to see more of your stuff. I'll see you around?"

She supposed he was cute, in a boy sort of way. "Maybe? Uh, I'll be around. But right now I've gotta go hit the dark room." The dark room wasn't open that day. "See you guys." She left the park, and walked toward the bus stop that would take her home.

 _Damn._ Why did it suck so much when that girl dissed her? She _was_ a photo nerd after all. She could have at least come up with something clever to say. _I wish Chloe were here_ , she thought. Chloe would have known what to say, would probably have been friends with these kids. But Chloe wasn't going to be there, maybe not ever. _I should grow up and call her_ , she thought. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach.

* * *

Nobody even knew. Nobody added up how Chloe hard-rejected every single guy who ever tried to flirt with her, and only put on the sweetness for girls. They just thought she was weird, and maybe a bitch. _Well, they're not necessarily wrong_ , she thought. Maybe Joyce guessed, but she kept quiet. Never asked about her love life, as if there was one. Probably didn't want to know. Who could Chloe even tell? "Hey, I'm in love with all these girls and if they even know I exist they just want to talk about boys. I'm seventeen and I've never even been on a real date!" Fuck! _I wish Max were here_ , she thought. Max would have listened to all of it and not given her a hard time for being a freak.

Three years gone and Chloe still missed her. Her best friend and her first girl crush. They had been kids, sure, and Chloe never _said_ she thought maybe she was in love, never tried to kiss Max or anything, but it didn't matter. Max had always been there and held her hand and hugged her and they were together and that was enough. But Max had left, never to be heard from again. What did that say? Max didn't really care. Not anymore anyway.

Arriving to a mercifully empty house, tears in her eyes, Chloe propped her board by the front door and went upstairs. She sat at her computer. She'd found a couple of recent photos of Max somebody had posted online, some kind of photography project. She looked at them a lot. Still pretty. More pretty, actually, starting to develop a little curve.

Next to the photos, Chloe opened an email draft. It had been sitting, unsent, for months. She erased it and started again.

* * *

At home, sitting on her bed, Max imagined talking to Chloe again. What could she even say? "I'm sorry it's been three years but I thought maybe we could be friends again? At least, we can talk on the phone? About... something?" Weak. Who was Chloe these days anyway? Possibly running Arcadia Bay by now. _I guess there's only one way to find out_ , she thought.

So. She willed herself to do it. She still remembered Chloe's house number. But she had no idea where to start. Maybe if she just called, and Chloe answered, she would stammer something out, and it would suck, but then it'd be Chloe on the other end of the line and it would just work out OK.

Hesitantly, she dialed, pausing a long time before pressing "Call". Her stomach was still a knot. Why was it so hard to call her former best friend? What was she so nervous about? She pressed the button, listened to the ring, her heart beating hard in her chest. A click! Joyce's voice... just the answering machine. What kind of message could she leave that would make any sense?! BEEP. She panicked, killed the call, and curled up on her bed in a confused jumble of disappointment and self-doubt. Who was she kidding? It had just been too long. They weren't friends anymore.

* * *

Chloe heard the house phone ring downstairs. If it was important they'd leave a message. Heard the machine pick up, Joyce's recorded voice, the beep, a brief silence, the dial tone. Probably a sales call or a scammer. Those assholes never left you alone.

She finished typing. "Hey Max, long time no see. How's big city life without me? Don't answer that. Actually, I've got some money together for this old truck that's for sale and some gas and was thinking I'd drive up. It's only like 250 miles. We could hang out, check out some of the Seattle sights for a weekend or something. Cool right? Say yes. OK? OK. I miss you so much." She paused a moment, deleted the last sentence. This was fucking pathetic. She didn't even know Max anymore. She must have a million friends in Seattle, probably a boyfriend. Some muscled jerk named Thad or something. Ugh, how awful would that be? "Chloe, this is my beau Thad. Thad, meet my old friend Chloe, from when we were kids."

No way could she send this ridiculous, desperate email. _Fuck!_ If that P.O.S. truck could even make it to Seattle she and Max probably wouldn't even get along anymore and there'd be this boyfriend and all this awkwardness and then what? Back here to this fucking town, back to being the only gay girl in the fucking world. She deleted the email, flopped on the bed. _Stuck in this backward, shit town! Fuck this place! Why'd you have to leave me here Max?!_


	2. Chapter 2

Joyce noticed Chloe's skateboard propped by the door as she walked in. It was the third anniversary of Max leaving town, and she knew from experience it'd be a tough day for Chloe. No other sign of her though; probably brooding in her room. The answering machine was blinking, so she hit Play. Nothing but a second of silence. Or was it? She hit play again. It was faint, but she heard a quiet sigh, cut off. Hit play again. A girl's voice. _I wonder,_ she thought, _it's a hell of a bit of timing._ She picked up the phone, punched *69.

It picked up midway through the first ring. "Um... hello?"

 _Well I'll be,_ thought Joyce, grinning. "Maxine Caulfield, I have been waiting for this call for three years. You do not get off the hook just because I wasn't here to pick up the phone."

She heard Chloe's door slam open, thump thump thump as her daughter pounded down the stairs. Joyce turned, and her smile vanished. Chloe stared at her through red-rimmed eyes, traces of salt on her cheeks, her face a mix of anxiety, embarrassment, hope. No tough-girl attitude today. _Oh, the poor dear._ On the line, Max was sputtering apologetic noises. Joyce handed the phone to Chloe.

"Now you be nice. Much better late than never, hear?"

* * *

Weeks later, Max lay alone in the dark. She still couldn't believe their parents had gone along with this. A weekend visit had turned into a week, turned into two weeks. After that Chloe had just said, "I won't leave you." In the end it seemed like Joyce had sold it to Max's parents. She and Chloe had held hands while they eavesdropped on Max's mother negotiating on the phone.

"I have to say, the two of them together are ten times the handful. Chloe's already giving me lip." she'd said, which had made Chloe snicker. "Uh huh. True. Oh! Oh my! Are you sure? So you think... no I would imagine not. Well, this _is_ a better place for that I'm sure. Still, this is very unusual... well I suppose so. No, I wouldn't want that. Alright, how about we try it out and see how it goes. We're not using the guest room anyway, and Max seems so much happier."

And that had been it. Chloe resigned from Blackwell and enrolled at Max's school for her senior year. Joyce had been firm on one point. "If I hear you are in trouble up there, you are coming right home."

Chloe was stubborn. "You can't force me to go back."

"You're really sure of that? The Caulfields will throw you out if I ask them to. Come on Chloe, this is not a lot to ask."

"Alright, alright! I'll be good. Ish."

Max had gone with Chloe to Arcadia Bay for a couple of days to collect Chloe's things. It had been so strange to see it again, but it had been great to see Joyce. She also met Joyce's new husband, which helped explain why Chloe wanted out so badly. Max supposed the guy meant well, but he was super strict and somehow everything turned into an argument. On the drive up, Chloe had seemed to brighten with each passing mile. When the Seattle skyline finally appeared on the horizon, she broke into a grin. "Out. I really made it out, Max. Thanks to you. And this old junker." She'd patted the steering wheel of the truck affectionately.

But, back home after a long day of loading, driving, and unloading, alone in her own room again, Max tossed and turned. This felt... wrong. It wasn't going to work. She got up, hesitantly knocked on the door across the hall.

The answer was immediate. "C'mon in." Chloe slid to one side and patted the blanket next to her. Silently, Max climbed into bed next to her best friend. Better. Safe. She drifted off to sleep.

And woke, morning sun streaming in the window, to the sound of knocking. On her door, across the hall. "Rise and shine sweetheart, I know you guys were up late but remember you've got driving school today!"

Max called back, instinctively, "I'll be down in a minute Mom!"

"Max?" her mother said, confusion in her voice. Then a rap on Chloe's door. "Are you in here?"

"Busted," Chloe muttered, rolling to face away from the door.

Max sighed, got up, and opened the door.

Her mother stood in the doorway, her brow knit, looked over Max's shoulder to see Chloe lying on one side of the bed. "Oh, there you are. What exactly is going on here?"

"Nothing is 'going on' here. I'm going to get dressed." Max moved to go back to her room but her mother remained steadfast in the doorway.

"I don't think this was part of the deal."

"'The deal,' Mom, seriously? Relax, we just sleep better this way, OK? Like we have since we were, what, seven years old? Why do you care now?"

This seemed to deflate her mother a bit. "I just, at your age, don't think it's appropriate."

Quietly, Chloe chuckled.

"I hear you Chloe Price. What is so funny?"

Chloe turned toward them, eyes wide. "Max Caulfield is OUT OF CONTROL," she intoned, and made a terrified face.

Max let out a brief, involuntary laugh. Then, to her mother, "You know, it's really not any of your business anyway. I'm getting dressed now." Max pushed past and went into her room.

Her mother turned to Chloe, hands on her hips. "Chloe, really not helpful."

"I'm on my best behavior. Sorry, Vanessa, I think this is as good as it gets."

Max's mother rolled her eyes and headed downstairs. In her room, Max laughed again.

* * *

Max gave up on sleeping in her own room. She and Chloe had always slept in the same bed when they had sleepovers as kids, and she found she had no interest in breaking the habit.

A few days after the move, they set an alarm and arose early. Max was going to get some actually good black and white skate photos, and of a gorgeous skater to boot. The sun was coming out, but it was early enough that they had plenty of time before it climbed too high and flattened everything out. She popped a new roll into the Nikon, stuffed extras into her bag. Excited. "Ready?"

"Let's roll," Chloe said, yawning.

They climbed into Chloe's truck and drove to the skate park. It was still empty at this hour. Max could roam around the concrete without getting in anybody's way, and Chloe had free reign of the ramps. She took to it eagerly, especially the rails. "Nothing legit to grind in Arcadia Bay!" she called, doing a 50-50 down a long, sloped rail. Max followed her around with the Nikon. Chloe was good, bringing a surprising grace to the rough, loud business of skate tricks. Occasionally she flubbed it and bailed, laughing, "Oh no, Max, don't shoot, don't shoot!" and Max found herself laughing too. She called out encouragements and jibes, and burned film like candy, as the sun rose in the sky.

"Get that one?" asked Chloe, rolling to a stop next to Max after a particularly high tail mash on the mini ramp.

"Got it. One roll left!" Max enthused.

"I am your eternal servant," Chloe bowed, kicking off again toward a rail. "Hah!" she yelled, hopping up to it and nosegrinding. She dropped off the end, the front trucks touching the concrete first, but she was too far forward. The board nosedived and she launched, tumbling into a heap.

"Chloe!" Max cried, letting the camera dangle from its strap as she ran to her friend, now slowly rolling onto her back. Max knelt over her, looked into Chloe's face.

"Oof," Chloe grunted, massaging her shoulder. "I'm OK, can't be an awesome skater without knowing how to crash. But this concrete hits hella harder than the plywood back in the Bay."

"Shit, Chloe. Here, lemme help you up."

Chloe staggered up. "Thanks. Maybe time to call it a day though. I'm starving."

"Me too. There's a hoagie joint one block over. You'll love it. I'm buying."

"You always buy."

"Gotta make up for all the free meals I ate at the diner."

* * *

The hoagies were huge, greasy, satisfying. Chloe ate ravenously. "You gunna finish that?" she said, pointing at the stubby end of Max's sandwich. "All yours," Max replied. It was gone in seconds.

"So now we develop?" Chloe asked. "This darkroom sounds creepy. Didn't know there were any still around."

"It's a dying art for sure. It feels like learning to speak Latin, but I love it."

"OK, point the way."

The darkroom was empty when they walked in. It almost always was. That was part of the appeal, it smelled funny but was quiet and dim and totally free of distractions. The weird, yellow light rendered them in perfect monochrome. "Wow, it is creepy," Chloe said. "So show me how we work the magic."

Max developed the film, then unrolled the strips to show to Chloe. "We find the good ones, then make prints of those."

"How do you make sense of this, with everything backward?"

"You get used to it." When Max looked at the frames, really focused on them, the negative image seemed to invert, and she almost felt like she could see through them to the original scene. For some reason she doubted it would be as easy for Chloe. "Here, let's start with this one."

They used an enlarger to make a print, dunked it in the fixer, and hung it up. After that, Chloe took some of the negatives and they worked side by side. "I've been inducted into the secret rituals of the photo nerds! Don't tell anybody."

Max was staring at the print she'd just made. "Wowser Chloe, look at this one."

This was the photo Max had been looking for. Chloe in midair, perfect profile, her legs bent, her right hand grabbing the board, her left outstretched before her. Her face was serene, almost expressionless, looking straight ahead. Nothing else in the frame at all, just an even white sky. She could have been flying.

"Shit, Max, I look super badass. The skate betties'll be all over me."

"What's a skate betty?"

"A hot girl who hangs out with skaters. Like you, but more punk."

"Sign me up."

Chloe cleared her throat. "Max Caulfield, I have decided to overlook your inappropriate attire and dub you an honorary skate betty."

"Cool, what do I do now?"

"Now you bat your eyelashes at me."

"How's this?" Max tilted her head, stared up at Chloe adoringly.

"Perfect."

"This betty is going to blow up this photo. Find me the biggest photo paper they've got in here."

"Roger that." Chloe started looking through boxes, while Max adjusted the enlarger for a wide format. A few minutes later, they hung up a 20x30 print.

Chloe peered at it in the dim light. "This is amazeballs. It belongs on the cover of Thrasher."

"Thrasher? What's that?"

"Argh, Max, you're killing me!"

* * *

Back home, Chloe sat shirtless in the bathroom, as Max fussed over her scrapes and abrasions from the skate park concrete. "C'mon Max, leave it alone, these are tiny."

"They'll heal faster if you cover them. Don't want people thinking I mistreat you."

Chloe sighed, "Fine."

"Take your pants off."

"What? I don't get a date first?"

"Today wasn't a date? Anyway there's blood on your jeans."

"Nothing you haven't seen before I guess." Chloe pulled off her jeans, tossed them in a heap by the door. Then she smiled, looked Max in the eye. "Max, if today was a date, it was seriously the best date ever."

"Sure was." Max knelt down, rubbed goop into a cut on Chloe's knee, pressed a band-aid over it, kissed it. "There, all better."

* * *

Summer vacation ended, school began. Chloe made a splash, showing off her best hard-edged punk to the mild, middle-class kids at Max's school. To some extent it was an act. Life was so much better now that she and Max were back in action. She felt more safe, more steady.

One evening, Max and Vanessa went out to dinner for "some mother and daughter time," leaving Chloe alone at home with Max's dad. Chloe smelled a setup, but figured she might as well go along with it. She sat at the breakfast table, for once actually doing homework.

Ryan came in, hesitated a moment. Then, "I'm gunna have a beer. Chloe, you want a beer?"

"Sure." _Yup, setup,_ she thought. _Off to a good start, though._

He pulled a couple of brown bottles from the fridge, opened them, handed one to Chloe, sat down across the table. "This one's a pilsner, hopefully not too bitter. Cheers."

They clinked bottles, she took a sip. Nice and cold. "Thanks."

"We need to have a talk. Ah, man to man, if you get my drift."

"Pretty sure I'm not qualified."

"Sorry. You... know what I mean."

Well, she had scrawled "think like a man" on her wall back home after all. She closed her notebook. "OK, regale me with your masculine oratory."

He paused, seemingly unsure of what to say, then found his nerve, began. "I feel like I've been dreading this since the day Max was born. But I always thought I'd be losing her to some random boy, not a... a girl she's known forever."

"Life is... full of surprises," Chloe said. "But I don't follow."

He raised an eyebrow, looked at her skeptically. "Chloe, we're not blind. She stopped being our little girl the day you showed up. She's in love with you and you know it."

 _I wish,_ she thought, staring down at the bottle. She took another sip.

Ryan continued, "I need to know she's not going to get hurt."

"I did move here to be with her."

"And that's the only reason? You hated Arcadia Bay."

"I hated Arcadia Bay because Max wasn't in it."

"Seattle's a much bigger town. You've got more options here."

"Dude, that's for sure. And?"

"And I want to know what your intentions are."

"My... intentions. What the hell does that mean?"

He was flustered now. "It means you're holding my sixteen-year-old daughter's heart in your hands and I want to know what you're going to do with it, Chloe!"

That got to her. The idea that she would abandon Max or hurt her... "Fuck, Ryan, chill. What can I even say? I've had a crush on Max since I was, like, eleven, and now I'm here in this amazing place and we're living together and I'm totally tripping balls."

He blinked. "Really, that long?"

"Yeah, I mean I've liked other girls but never like Max. She's my best friend dude! I don't want to fuck that up. If she... if it's like you said, I'm scared that it's just the novelty of me coming here, I mean, it seems like she was doing just fine without me."

His voice softened. "No. You didn't see the tears after we left the Bay. Vanessa and I thought it would blow over, that soon enough she'd have a new best friend, but... that never happened. We couldn't figure it out, she couldn't. But I think it makes sense now."

 _Damn, Max. Neither of us had a fucking clue back then, did we?_ "Well, that... that sucks. I waited three years to get her back, no way I'm going to ditch her now."

"OK. OK, I'm convinced," Ryan said. "Have you guys thought about the future at all? You'll be done with high school soon but Max has another year after that. Are you going to apply to college, or what?"

"I... no. I don't know. I spent so long trying to get out of Arcadia Bay, now I'm just... holding on. I'm so afraid I'm going to fuck up somehow, end up back in that shit town again." _God, keep it together Chloe._ She swallowed some more beer.

"I don't think you need to worry about that. But you've got time," Ryan said. "Talk about it with Max, OK?"

"Deal."

He sighed wistfully. "At least I don't have to worry about her getting pregnant."

Chloe snorted. "You never know, I'm an unusually bad influence."

"Right, how naive of me." Ryan finally changed the subject. "Alright, enough of this, tell me about your worst skating injuries."

"Oh man," she laughed, relieved. "Let me tell you."

* * *

Max walked into the house, passed the kitchen. Chloe and her father were sitting at the breakfast table, laughing about something... over beers? She wanted badly to pop in with the Polaroid to capture this unlikely scene, but she had a feeling that the mood would die the instant she appeared. _They were talking about me. Dad's doing his protective Dad thing. Sorry to throw you such a curveball, Dad._ As she went upstairs, Chloe called after her. "I'll be up in a bit, babe!" Her father laughed. _Babe?!_

Chloe came upstairs to find Max in her bed, reading. The big skate photo hung above her in its place of honor among Chloe's posters. Max smiled. "So, how'd that go?"

"Awesome! He said you're in love with me."

"You're drunk. You could at least have brought me a beer."

Chloe grinned, her eyes shining. "Hey, it's your house, not mine. Plus you're only sixteen. Are you in love with me?"

Max laughed. "You are totally ridiculous. Come here and kiss me, we'll find out."


	3. Chapter 3

Vanessa sat down at the breakfast table across from Ryan. There was music playing upstairs, punctuated by the occasional giggle. She glanced at the empty beer bottles, then the ceiling, then raised a quizzical eyebrow at her husband. He looked sheepish. "I think I accidentally advanced the timetable," he said. "Either way, we need to get used to the idea. When I implied she wasn't serious about Max, ouch, for a second there I thought she would either burst into tears or stab me. Maybe both. She may be confused about a lot of stuff, but not this."

Vanessa crossed her arms. "It'll be a real mess if it goes south. Girls can be so fickle at that age."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Absolutely."

"I'm not so sure. They've known each other a _long_ time."

* * *

They'd shared a bed hundreds of times before, but Chloe had never put her arms around Max and held her like this. Had certainly never taken her hand and caressed it as they waited for sleep. But sleep never came. So many years as best friends, but now it all seemed brand new again.

After a while, Chloe spoke. "I can _not_ believe your dad got me drunk and then we made out in your parents' house. That is, like, the opposite of romantic."

"If you could turn back time, would you take it back?"

"No way! I just... always imagined our first kiss would be someplace cool, watching the sunset. Like up at the lighthouse."

 _Always imagined,_ Max repeated to herself. _I'm sorry I made you wait so long, Chloe._ She squeezed Chloe's hand, which was bigger than her own, stronger. She liked that. "We can find someplace romantic tomorrow." _I miss that lighthouse._

They were silent a while longer. Max could see the semicircle of the moon through the window of the darkened room. It was very late.

Then Max heard a whimper behind her, followed by a sniffle.

She spun around, cradled her friend's head. "What's wrong? What is it Chloe?"

"I'm... I'm scared Max."

"Scared of what Chloe? I'm right here. It's OK."

The answer came through sobs. "I'm so... Everything always goes to... goes to shit. My dad... died on me, you bailed on me, my mom... brought that asshole home. No girls ever really liked me. I was so lonely..."

"Not anymore Chloe. I won't bail on you again."

"I'm afraid I'm going to wake up in Arcadia Bay. I'm afraid I'm going to... to fuck it up and... lose you again." More sobs. "After tonight I... I don't think I could take it."

"Shhhh. I'm still going to be here in the morning, and I'm still going to love you. And the day after that."

"Max! Why'd you ever have to leave?" Chloe cried, and continued to sob.

There wasn't any answer to that which mattered. Max felt tears in her own eyes. Instead she took the Polaroid from the shelf by the bed, aimed it at herself and Chloe in the dark.

Chloe looked up at the camera. "What the fuck?!" Max pressed the button, and the flash exploded in her eyes like a nuclear bomb, followed by the distinct sound of the instant photo spooling out. "Aaaah, why?" Chloe pleaded.

"One sec," Max replied, blinking away the afterimage. She got out of bed, took her phone and the photo to Chloe's desk, switched on her phone's flashlight. She picked a purple pen and wrote on the photo, then got back in bed.

She handed the photo, backside-up, to Chloe, illuminating it with her phone's light. Chloe took it and read the note she had written on the back. "To Chloe, on the night of our first kiss. Never forget this magical evening. -Max" Max had drawn hearts all around the words. Chloe flipped the photo over, and found an image of abject misery. Two girls with disheveled hair above sad, red-rimmed eyes, their mouths held in stupid semi-frowns. Chloe had strands of blue and blonde hair stuck to her temples by drying tears.

She chuckled, a little. Sniffed. "Max, this is ridiculous! Look at the happy couple." She laughed again, louder. "No one can ever see this!"

Max smiled at the absurd photo. "This one's just for us. Someday we'll have a thousand cheesy photos of ourselves smiling. We won't get many of these." She shut off the light, put the photo and her phone down beside the bed. Kissed Chloe's forehead. "Go to sleep. It'll be better in the morning."

* * *

Max was dimly aware of some sort of noise. Heard Chloe grunt "Nope," felt movement in the bed, heard the noise stop. She fell back asleep.

Awoke to bright, late morning light. "Oh fuck! Chloe wake up, we missed the alarm!"

"Huh? Mmm... chill dude. I turned it off."

"What? Shit, Chloe why? We're hours late for school already!"

Chloe blinked, rubbed her eyes. "Max, if ever there was a day for you to cut class, this is that day. I want you all to myself." She pulled closer, caught Max's eye, her voice sweet. "It's not like you'd be paying attention anyway," she teased.

 _She's got me there,_ Max thought. "I just don't want to get busted. Why didn't my parents wake us up?" Max got out of bed, noticed a piece of paper stuck under the door. She unfolded it and read aloud.

"I called you both in sick. Sorry for poking my nose where it doesn't belong. Enjoy the day. Don't get cocky, this is a one-time offer. -Ryan"

Chloe propped her head up on one elbow. "Huh. Your dad can be pretty cool when he wants to be."

Max flopped back onto the mattress. "He always was kind of a softie."

"So, listen, last night... I'm sorry you had to see that. SO not hot."

Max took Chloe's hand. "It's not like it's the first time I've seen you cry, Chloe. It's OK. I want to be there for you when you're feeling low."

"Easy for you to say, you don't rage out or fall to fucking pieces whenever some emo shit goes down."

"You know I have a breaking point too." Max picked up the miserable polaroid from the night before, giggled. "God, look at us. What a disaster. This photo is epic."

"I can't believe you took that. Now I can forever be reminded of my star turn as a whiny bitch. I need to kick some ass to get all that boo-hoo bullshit out of my system."

"Who's ass are you planning to kick?"

"Ah, that's a fucking problem. Usually I'd have gotten into a fight with my mom or step-douche by now. Maybe I can channel my badassitude into a style upgrade instead." She twirled the blue stripe in her hair. "Thinking of going all blue, to match my eyes, what do you think?"

"Wowser Chloe, I get weak in the knees just picturing it."

"Damn, should have done it months ago." Chloe hopped out of bed. "Igor, let us begin the transformation! But first, breakfast!"

"Yeesss, Master! To the laboratory, but first the cafe!" Max laughed.

* * *

As the sun sank, they stopped the truck at a hilltop park with a good western view. Chloe's hair was all blue, and she'd added a black beanie to ward off the evening chill. Max hadn't escaped the dye frenzy unscathed; a deep red highlight ran through her brown hair. "There, now I've marked my territory," Chloe had said.

"Shut up, dork, I'm nobody's territory." But in truth the bold color made her feel like she was carrying part of Chloe around with her. It made her feel more confident, somehow.

The light was turning golden. A little way away, two guys with skateboards were sitting on a bench, smoking. "Watch this," said Chloe, pulling out her board. Max leaned against the side of the truck, looking on. Chloe rolled toward the skaters. "Sup, Betty?" one of them said as she approached, dismissive. "Not much, poser." replied Chloe, kicking once and doing a quick ollie impossible, the board spinning a neat 360 between her feat. Both the guys' eyes went wide. "Holy sh-" started the first, his cigarette dangling between his fingers. Chloe's hand shot out, plucked it from his grasp as she passed. "Thanks!" she said, cheerfully. She never even slowed down.

The other skater guffawed, "Dude, you just got so served! By a girl! Oh, man!" Chloe arced around toward Max, the cigarette trailing smoke. She kicked up her board, leaned back against the truck, one foot against the rear tire, elbows resting on the edge of the truck bed. She took a drag. "Man, that shit never gets old." Then she looked down at the cig, dropped it, crushed it underfoot, suddenly self-conscious. "Crap cigarette though."

"That was fantastic. Hold that pose," said Max, backing up and snapping a polaroid. The photo that emerged was almost unreal, Chloe a punk angel glowing with golden light offset by deep shadows, her board propped next to her. _When did she turn into my dream girl?_ Max wondered. _Or did my dream girl turn into her? Was there ever any difference?_ She pocketed the photo, returned to leaning against the truck. They gazed out at the sunset gathering over Puget Sound, and beyond that, the Olympic Peninsula.

"It's such a trip to have hills on the other side of the water," Chloe said.

"I know, I'm still not used to it," said Max. "I keep expecting to see ocean out to the horizon."

"I'm gunna start looking into colleges around here, for after I graduate."

"For real? I thought you hated school."

"I dunno, there's a lot more cool shit in college. It seems pretty different."

"I sure hope so." Max scowled. "Our school doesn't even have one photography class."

"Blackwell does. We could go back to the Bay."

"Yeah, they have a great program. But for cereal, I take you back there to live with Joyce and David, all for a photography class? I'm good, thanks."

"Right on sister. Anyway. Thanks for saving me, Max."

"Saving you from what?"

"All my angsty bullshit. I was so lonely in Arcadia Bay... it was fucking me up bad. I wasn't sure I was gunna make it out alive, you know? Shit can go wrong hella fast when you get desperate. I don't... feel that way anymore."

"Oh, Chloe, I... I'm going to kiss you right now."

"About ti-mmph!"

* * *

Years later. They were in town to visit Joyce and David. And of course, eat at the Two Whales.

Max sat on the bench by the lighthouse, looking out at the sea. The stump they had carved their names onto all those years ago, improbably, still stood behind her. _We've been coming here for so long,_ she thought. _As eager as we were to leave, we'll always be tied to this spot._

She heard the pop and buzz of William's old instant camera, slightly different from her own Polaroid. Chloe walked up and sat down beside her, showed off the photo of Max sitting on the bench. "Not bad, right?"

"Pretty good. Except your finger here in the corner."

"Fuck. Well, all part of the charm."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Max took her wife's hand, held it tight.


	4. Bonus Epilogue

Sunday afternoon. They were in Max's room, Max at her desk doing homework, Chloe lounging on the single bed, flipping through a tatoo magazine. She couldn't afford any rad ink herself... yet.

Chloe's phone chimed an alarm. She groaned. "Time for the weekly check-in with Mom."

"Hmm," Max started, thoughtful. "You should tell her about us."

"Tell her what, exactly? Also... why?"

"Tell her we're, um... dating. Your mom convinced my parents to let you stay here. We wouldn't even be together if she hadn't dialed me back when I was too chicken-shit to leave a message. She deserves to know that your life really is better."

"You're basically telling me I need to come out to my mom."

"Yeah, I am. You want her to think you're up here messing around with Seattle boys?"

"Could happen."

"Chloe!"

Chloe grinned. "Maybe not with you watching over me twenty-four-seven. Alright. Alright, I'll tell her." She sat up on the edge of Max's bed, picked up her phone, moved to dial Joyce, hesitated. Dropped her hands into her lap, staring blankly at the phone. "Shit, Max, this is actually hard. I'm freaked out."

"Why? I thought Joyce was cool about this stuff."

"I've never really... talked to her about my love life before. Not that there was much to talk about. What if she goes ballistic, tells me I have to come home or something?"

Max got up, crossed to the bed, sat behind Chloe, wrapped her arms around her. She rested her chin on the back of Chloe's shoulder. "She won't go ballistic. She probably knows already. But no matter what comes through that phone, you're safe here with me. If she wants you to go home over this, you can claim asylum in the Caulfield household until she comes to her senses."

"What about David? He might be a total homophobe."

"Fuck David! He's your mom's problem, not yours. If she even tells him, it doesn't matter what he thinks."

Chloe took a deep breath, felt Max's warmth against her back, the weight of her head on her shoulder. "Yeah, OK." She dialed.

Joyce answered. "Chloe! Right on time. I'm surprised."

"Hi Mom."

"So, how are things in Seattle this week?"

"Things are good, Mom. Really good, actually. I... I guess I should tell you... Max and I... we're kind of dating."

"Oh, thank heavens! Chloe, I am _so_ glad to hear that."

"...what? You are?" Chloe hadn't been sure what to expect, but this definitely was not it.

"Chloe, most girls your age would have talked my ear off about boys years ago. But I only ever heard about Max. I had a pretty good idea what that meant. And you'd been alone for so long."

Chloe could feel her face flush. "So you're OK with me being, you know. Gay. A lesbian, I guess." She'd never spoken these words aloud, about herself, before.

"If that's what you are, it doesn't make a lick of difference to me. And Max is very special. I'd rather see you with her than just about anybody else."

Chloe sighed. "Well, good... that's my big news. Way to make it an anticlimax, Mom."

"Sorry, honey. Do you think this is a serious relationship?"

"Ah..." Chloe stammered, self-conscious. Max could hear all of this. "I think so. I mean, it is to me." Then she felt Max nodding against her shoulder. She continued, more confident. "Yeah. It is serious."

"That is wonderful. You take care to be good to her, Chloe. You're awfully young yet, but I've seen enough to know girls like Max don't come around very often."

"Yeah, Mom, I fuckin' know." She felt Max lift her head, nuzzle through her hair, kiss the back of her neck. "I really, really know."


End file.
